


Damsel in Dior

by Chierei



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Costumes, Domestic Fluff, Family, Fluff, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:35:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chierei/pseuds/Chierei
Summary: “Ow!” Ed said, wincing, before, at Martin’s glare for breaking character, he amended, “I mean, roar! The pain! I am slain!” Ed fell to his knees with a long wail.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Martin & Edward Nygma, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 19
Kudos: 87





	Damsel in Dior

**Author's Note:**

> I challenged TokenBruceWayneFan ([ciels_trashland](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/ciels_trashland/pseuds/ciels_trashland)) to a fluff war, and this was the result! 
> 
> Go and make sure to read their response [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26624728)!

“Martin!” Oswald said, unable to stop giggling as the child set the ridiculous wig on his head, the cheap spirals of fake hair dyed a multitude of colors. He presumed it was intended to be a clown’s wig, but Oswald didn’t think anyone, not even a clown, would wear such an atrocity.

The boy in question grinned as he placed a bright red ball on his nose before giving it a squeeze. It honked, sending them both back into a fit of laughter. Martin doubled over, and the wig fell off his head, joining the numerous costumes strewn across the living room floor.

He hadn’t known what to do with the trunk of costumes when Martin presented them to him. The boy had found them collecting dust in the attic and had managed to coerce Olga into helping bring them into the living room. Oswald had returned home from where he was overseeing the construction of his new Iceberg Lounge to find the boy elbow deep in various fabrics and props. It hadn’t taken long for the boy to unceremoniously been recruited to joining him with the exploration. Oswald had already been coerced into putting on a pair of cat ears that Martin refused to let him take off.

“So, is this what you two have been doing all day?”

Oswald turned at the voice, tipping his head back and grinning when he spotted.

Martin wasted no time abandoning him to rush at Ed, running full-force into him to latch onto Ed’s waist to hug him.

Ed had his hat tucked under his arm, and he set it aside to hug Martin back, dropping a kiss onto his mop of curls. He looked resplendent in his typical suit, the shimmer of green only accentuating his slim form and high cheekbones. But he looked even better hugging the boy they both saw as their son.

It hadn’t been an easy road. A few years ago, Oswald would never have pictured this domesticity that he would have not one, but two people that he loved more than anything, to come home to.

“How was work, darling?” Oswald asked, teasing. Ed, like many of the criminal underworld, didn’t have “work” as one would traditionally have, but he knew Ed was working on various traps and schemes during the day. He had spied plans to rob the Gotham Museum, and he was only waiting for the day that the one-of-a-kind Order of St. George Faberge Egg that was on display would show up on their mantle.

“Work was lovely,” Ed said, extracting himself from Martin so he could drop to his knees.

Oswald tilted his head up, accepting the kiss. He smelled of motor oil and peppermint, and Oswald sighed against his lips.

Ed grinned as he pulled back. “Now, where in the world did these come from?” he asked, flicking a finger at the pair of feline ears that Oswald had forgotten was still perched on his head. “Not that I am complaining,” he said. “You make a very adorable cat.”

Oswald blushed. “Martin found them in the attic. I have no idea what they were doing up there. I can only presume some relative of mine had a penchant for costume design.” Aside from some of the more garish wigs and props, most of the clothing was quite well made.

Ed hummed, not answering as he loosened his tie. He examined a few of the pieces that Oswald and Martin had already extracted, running his hands down a Napoleonic style military coat, complete with thick tassels and brass buttons.

“Martin has decided to pursue a career in being a jester,” Oswald said, smiling as Martin grinned back. The monstrosity of a wig had fallen off, as had the nose, but that didn’t stop the boy from squeezing the red ball again, making it honk offensively loud.

“Oh?” Ed said, taking a seat and crossing his legs. “Are you looking to take after the Joker then?”

Martin made a face, making both Oswald and Ed laugh. He was glad to know that Martin had as much distaste for the so-called “Clown Prince of Gotham” as they did.

“Well,” Ed said, “let’s take a look to see what else we have in here. Perhaps your father and I can find a more suitable alternative for you?”

And that was how Oswald found himself twenty minutes later, dressed in a pale pink ballgown. Martin had insisted when they had pulled it out, eyes shining. And Oswald was never able to argue when Martin wanted something.

“Oh no,” Oswald said in a purposeful falsetto, “who will save me from the big bad dragon?” He was splayed out on the floor, hand to his forehead as he pretended to play the princess in distress. Martin had even insisted on placing the found tiara on his head—though he hadn’t allowed Oswald to remove the cat ears. Apparently, he was meant to be a cat princess.

Martin waved a worn wooden sword in front of him while wearing the thick military coat they had also found. It was several sizes too large for him, and the sleeves reached past his fingertips, so they had to tie up his sleeves with Oswald’s sleeve garters. To top it off, he had wrapped black cloak over his shoulders as a makeshift cape and was posed gallantly, ready to defend Oswald against the “dragon.”

Ed gave a theatrical roar, throwing his head back and his hands up chest-level to imitate claws. They hadn’t found a proper dragon costume in the trunk, so instead, Ed had pulled on a bright green velvet dress on, the sleeves long enough to touch the ground and edged with gold trim. It was likely intended to be a costume for a sorceress of some sort, but Martin had insisted that Ed was also a dragon. They comprised and decided that Ed was going to be a dragon _and_ a sorceress.

Never one to back down at the chance to put on a show, Ed had acquiesced and then proceeded to “kidnap” the cat princess Oswald, prompting Martin to plan his valiant rescue.

Martin smacked Ed in the shin with the sword. It made an audible thud. In hindsight, Oswald probably should have told Martin to be careful with it—wooden or no.

“Ow!” Ed said, wincing, before, at Martin’s glare for breaking character, he amended, “I mean, roar! The pain! I am slain!” Ed fell to his knees with a long wail.

Oswald rolled his eyes as he watched as Ed overdramatized his supposed death. Always the showman.

Finally, he fell to the ground with a final choke and gurgle and then laid still.

Martin gave an exaggerated frown as he leaned over the “slain” dragon, poking him again with the tip of his wooden sword.

And then Ed jolted up, grabbing onto Martin. “Ha, fooled you!” he said, wrestling playfully with the boy while he attacked him. “Now, for your torture!”

Martin giggled, wiggling gleefully as he fell under the tickle onslaught.

“I prevail!” Ed said, finally sitting up in triumph with his arms around Martin. His glasses were lopsided, and he looked truly ridiculous. His shirt collar poked up from the dress’s neckline, and the golden circlet that he wore at Martin’s insistence was off-center. “I have conquered the knight, and now, I shall steal the princess for myself.”

Oswald rolled his eyes, unable to stop smiling.

And he kept smiling, even when Martin decided to exact his revenge by smacking Ed in the side with a prop broomstick, causing Ed to topple over again with a melodramatic groan and the battle resumed.

Years ago, Oswald would never have thought that this was how he would spend his evening—playing a cat princess in distress who was waiting to be rescued by a Napoleonic knight from a sorceress dragon.

But, he thought as he watched Ed and Martin continue their play-acting, he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know, I should be working on my million of WIPs, but I needed to defend my honor in this fluff war. As a result, we get this bit of silliness in time for Halloween. This was inspired by some art I saw awhile back on Tumblr!
> 
> As always, I hope you had a good laugh at this little piece of silliness. If you enjoyed, please take a moment to drop me a comment!


End file.
